Sanity instantly dropped to zero.
A chill rose from his tailbone, shooting straight up to the crown of his head. Zhang Yuanqing felt like a cat with its fur standing on end, jumping on the spot and blurting out a string of curses:
"Fk this st!"
It was an instinctive, involuntary outburst triggered by extreme shock or fear.
Now he finally understood why his shoulder ached so badly, and why the corpse by the window carried a bronze mirror.
It was to check if a grudging spirit had perched on one's shoulder.
When did it jump on me? When I entered the courtyard, or when I stepped into this room?
Who gave me the courage to come out and explore? Liang Jingru?!
His mind exploded with frantic thoughts flooding in like a tidal wave of terror.
Though he had known this temple housed something strange and terrifying, and was somewhat prepared mentally, facing the ghostly entity head-on still ignited a deep, unspeakable panic.
Wait — I have a talisman... Zhang Yuanqing shakily pulled out a yellow paper charm from the left pocket of his jacket and, desperate, slapped it on his shoulder.
Smack!
The talisman struck his shoulder. He raised the bronze mirror carefully and shone it on his shoulder. The man with deathly pale skin, blackened lips, and lifeless white pupils was still perched there.
It was useless. This thing wasn't a corpse spirit or ghost.
His last shred of hope vanished. Zhang Yuanqing felt his shoulder ache deepen and a cold numbness spread through his limbs.
This wasn't an illusion. His Yang Qi (vital energy) was being drained for real.
At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing thought of the corpse under the main hall's table, and the senior who had died under the window. Most likely, he would meet the same fate.
A bone-chilling fear surged through his heart.
"Clop clop!"
Suddenly, at this crucial moment, faint footsteps sounded from the corridor outside.
The steps were light, but in the silence of the night, very clear.
...Zhang Yuanqing's heart jolted. He crouched down quickly beside the corpse by the window.
The footsteps sounded familiar, like those he heard when entering the temple.
"Clop clop clop..."
The footsteps drew closer, heading his way. He held his breath, tensed up, and could barely hear his own wild heartbeat.
As the footsteps passed outside the window, Zhang Yuanqing couldn't resist looking at the floor.
Moonlight poured in, casting a lattice shadow from the window on the ground.
The window was only waist-high. A normal person walking outside would surely cast a shadow on the floor, but he saw nothing.
That meant whatever passed outside the window had no physical body.
Luckily, the footsteps passed by without stopping or entering, gradually fading away.
Phew... Zhang Yuanqing silently exhaled, focusing on the retreating sounds until they reached the courtyard and rustled through the wild grass.
Then they stopped.
A few seconds later, the footsteps started again.
But this time, they were no longer casual walking — they were rhythmic, like a deliberate march.
What was that doing in the courtyard?
Zhang Yuanqing, supported by his cold body, struggled to stand and peered through the tattered paper window.
Under the moonlight, in the wild grass, a pair of brand-new red Western-style dancing shoes tapped a rhythmic tap dance.
Moonlit night, abandoned temple, red dancing shoes, dancing alone.
The scene looked absurd and eerie, yet carried an indescribable... loneliness?
How could a Ming Dynasty mountain temple have a pair of Western-style dancing shoes?
This temple was getting weirder and weirder...
He quietly crouched back down, waiting patiently.
Minutes ticked by as the grudging spirit on his shoulder continued draining his Yang Qi. His body grew stiff, the shoulder ache became stabbing pain.
He felt that if this continued, he'd either be drained of energy to death or suffer a fatal broken shoulder.
In this torment, the dancing shoes vanished from the courtyard.
Zhang Yuanqing didn't dare expose himself yet. After waiting a while longer, he carefully peeked outside.
The courtyard was bathed in moonlight. The wild grass stood silently. The eerie shoes were gone.
"Whew..."
He exhaled a breath of relief, just as he tried to stand, his knees buckled and he fell.
His tense nerves relaxed, adrenaline faded — only then did he realize how bad his condition truly was.
His shoulder burned with stabbing pain, his bones felt like they were cracking, his knees stiffened, and his blood felt like it had congealed.
Trembling, he grabbed the bronze mirror.
In the dusty reflection, Zhang Yuanqing saw his pale face, drooping expression, and dull pupils.
This was no healthy person — he looked like a spent shell, drained of life.
On his shoulder, the grudging spirit with blackened lips silently stared back.
Death was inevitable if this went on, but what could he do? He couldn't touch the spirit on his shoulder.
The bone pain forced him to lean against the wall for support.
He glanced at the corpse of the worker senior. The corpse's pose mirrored his own.
"So that's how it is..." Zhang Yuanqing smiled bitterly.
He seemed to see his own fate and hear Death's sigh.
But Zhang Yuanqing had not given up hope. His mind raced like an overloaded CPU, searching desperately for a way to survive.
In a flash, the corpse under the main hall's table appeared in his chaotic thoughts.
"The two corpses have different degrees of shoulder fractures. The corpse in the main hall's injury isn't fatal. Did the grudging spirit spare him? No, grudging spirits don't show mercy...
Why did he hide under the table...?"
"The red dancing shoes followed me secretly when I entered the temple, but when I entered the main hall, they left..."
At this thought, a glimmer of hope lit his cloudy pupils.
Back to the main hall, now!
He immediately got up, staggering painfully out of the room, every step like carrying a mountain.
"Thud!"
He fell in the courtyard, collapsing in the wild grass, unable to stand.
His teeth chattered with "clack clack" sounds. He felt like he was in a bitter winter.
The "severe cold" was stealing his warmth and eroding his will.
With all his strength, Zhang Yuanqing crawled toward the main hall, keeping his eyes fixed on its silhouette to keep hope alive.
It was only about a minute from the room to the main hall, but felt as far away as the ends of the earth.
Finally, as he crawled beneath the main hall's eaves, phantom screams echoed in his ears, and his shoulder suddenly felt light.
The cold, dizziness, and stiffness vanished instantly.
He tumbled and crawled up the base, swaying unsteadily to the front of the hall, pushed open the lattice door, and collapsed inside.
The candlelight was faint but dispelled the gloom, bringing a warmth like spring sunshine.
He lay sprawled on the floor, chest heaving, panting hard for several minutes until he finally felt alive again.
"This is terrifying, terrifying... My guess was right. The main hall is a safe refuge."
Judging by the differing shoulder injuries of the two corpses, something was preventing the grudging spirit from attacking anyone inside the hall.
And the worker curled up and died under the table — that fit the psychology of someone hiding in extreme fear.
In that worker's mind, the main hall was safe.
The red dancing shoes abandoning their pursuit further proved this.
Zhang Yuanqing stayed in the main hall until the shoulder pain eased and his body warmed again.
Sure enough, he encountered no further danger.
"If the main hall is a safe house, my chance of survival definitely increases. Even if the grudging spirit keeps draining my energy, I can escape back here.
But if I meet the grudging spirit and the red dancing shoes chase me, I probably won't make it back."
"And the strangest, most terrifying source in this temple definitely isn't just the grudging spirit..."
He didn't gloat after narrowly escaping death.
This temple was far from simple.
Remember, an entire construction crew had died here before him.
After resting a while, he began to put aside his fear, hesitating whether to continue exploring.
The voice in his mind rang again:
[Main Task 1: Survive 3 hours (Completed)]
[Main Task 2: Explore Spirit Realm #0079, Progress: 20%]
[Yuanshi Tianzun, congratulations on completing a main task. Calculating rewards...]
[Item Acquired: Corpse-Subduing Talisman (viewable in inventory).]
[Experience gained: 15%]
[Inventory unlocked.]
[You have earned 36 hours of rest. Spirit Realm #0079 will reopen in 35:59:40.]
The scenery in the main hall warped like ripples on a pond stirred by wind.
When the image cleared, Zhang Yuanqing saw bright energy-saving lamps, a spacious bed, a desk, a PS5 game console, an open window with curtains fluttering in the breeze.
He was back in the mortal world.
"Back?"
He was stunned, looking around to confirm he really returned to his room. His knees buckled and he collapsed on the soft bed.
Taking a deep breath, the air smelled sweet and pure.
Living was good. The mortal world was good.
After a few minutes, Zhang Yuanqing sat up, unzipped his jacket, and noticed the corpse-subduing talisman was gone.
Instinctively, the thought of "taking items" appeared, and a blue grid floated before his eyes.
Five slots in total; the first slot held the yellow talisman.
It was a strange sensation. After unlocking the inventory, this function seemed like a built-in instinct — no learning required, he just naturally knew how to open it.
"Besides the corpse talisman, I also gained 15% experience, but my level is still zero. That means I'm not yet a Night Roamer God, just an ordinary person."
"Surviving three hours almost killed me. How am I supposed to complete the second task? Is this S-tier difficulty..."
The more Zhang Yuanqing thought about it, the more hopeless he felt. He blamed Bing Ge (Soldier Bro) for dragging him into this.
This cursed card could change your life, but it was damn hard to master.
He had self-awareness — just a college student who had never even killed a chicken. Surviving alone in the next task would be near impossible.
As a proud socialist youth, of course, he had to rely on the state and government now.
He took out his phone, intending to call his cousin, but stopped mid-finger-motion.
Zhang Yuanqing realized he might have a better option.
He flipped out of bed, found the business card left by the man with slicked-back hair in the desk drawer.
The card had a name and contact info.
Tonight's ordeal reminded him of Bing Ge's mysterious disappearance. If he couldn't get out alive, he'd disappear too.
He was certain Bing Ge had already come into contact with the spirit realm — his disappearance likely meant he entered one.
Based on this logic, the public security bureau investigator was trustworthy.
He chose to contact the slick-backed man also because that guy said he might disappear too — basically hinting that he'd enter a spirit realm.
Plus, his cousin knew nothing about this. Zhang Yuanqing had reason to believe those three men were special personnel assigned to deal with such incidents.
After thinking it through, Zhang Yuanqing dialed the number on the card.
The call beeped a few times before being answered.
A mature male voice, deep and low, asked:
"Who's this?"